


IF

by Kit_Kat21



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-07
Updated: 2021-01-07
Packaged: 2021-03-18 13:02:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,018
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28618494
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kit_Kat21/pseuds/Kit_Kat21
Summary: “I need you to promise me something,” she then said.“Alright.” Jon didn’t think about his answer because he didn’t think that he had to.“It would really mean a lot if you didn’t tell everyone at school about…” she took another deep breath and swallowed. “Just don’t tell anyone about this.”
Relationships: Jon Snow/Sansa Stark
Comments: 72
Kudos: 187





	IF

…

“And now, the assignment,” Mrs. Hother said, returning to her desk among a chorus of groans and boos from the students sitting at their desks. She turned back around, facing them with a wide smile. “Oh, stop. This one will be fun. I promise.”

Jon Snow, sitting in the third row, fourth chair back, doubted that. Mrs. Hother was an enthusiastic teacher, he’d give her that, and she wanted all of her students to love what she clearly loved. But the problem was Mrs. Hother taught 11th grade poetry – a requirement for every student in their high school to take and very, _very_ few kids actually liked 11th grade poetry.

“Now, everyone is going to pick a partner and from this list-” the woman held up a stack of papers in her hand. “You are going to recite it – _from memory_ – in front of the class this Friday.”

This was only met with louder groans and boos. Jon didn’t join in with the noise but he whole-heartedly agreed with his classmates. Reciting a poem in front of the class from memory? That was considered fun?

The Old Gods help him. He hated speaking in front of classes. He had gone to school with all of these people since first grade and he knew just about all of them but for whatever reason, he got up in front of them and forgot every word he had ever known. Last year, he had to give a short presentation on phobias and just showed a five-minute clip from the movie _Arachnophobia_ to get him through it.

“Now, stop your overdramatic reactions,” Mrs. Hother said as she went to the first chair in each row to hand them the papers so they could be passed out. “This is going to help with vocabulary and figurative language. These both are considered important things to be somewhat competent at out in the real world.”

Jon took the papers and taking one for himself, he passed the last one to the kid sitting behind him. He held the list up, studying it carefully. He recognized a few. He didn’t know them but he recognized them. Robert Frost. Edgar Allan Poe. Emily Dickson. And Shakespeare. Those were all the obvious one. The rest of them, Jon had no idea what they were; how long or how difficult it would be to memorize.

“Now, you pick your partner, you and your partner choose from this list which one you want and you have until Friday to work on it,” Mrs. Hother said with a smile; as if this was the best thing she had ever said. “Now, some of these poems, as you will find are _quite_ long so if a poem has four or more stanzas, you and your partner will only be expected to memorize the first two. Once you pick, come up to see me and I have them on easy printouts for you to work off of.”

Jon immediately looked to one of his best mates, Grenn, who was in this same second-period class. Grenn sat two rows away and was talking with Alys Mors, who sat next to him. When Grenn caught Jon looking at him, he pointed to Alys, and though he wanted to frown and sigh, Jon, instead gave a short nod.

Damn it, Grenn, Jon grumbled silently to himself. It didn’t matter if Grenn had had a crush on Alys Mors forever. Jon _needed_ him more than Alys Mors. But again, he said all of this silently.

With a sigh, Jon looked around at his other classmates, all teaming up together. He then looked to his left; to the seat next to his in the last row against the window.

Sansa Stark was new that year, having moved to Last Hearth and almost immediately caused a stir because she was beautiful and also seemed nice – kind of a rarity when it came to the beautiful girls in high school; at least in Jon’s opinion. He assumed, the first time he saw her on the first day of school, that the popular crowd would snatch her up for themselves immediately. And maybe they had tried but Sansa Stark made it obvious to everyone within the first week that while being so nice to everyone, she also didn’t seem to be interested in making friends.

It wasn’t like he was always watching her but he noticed that she was on her phone often throughout the day, in between classes, and as soon as the final bell rang, she was practically running from the school. He just figured it was something to do with her family or maybe she had an after-school job to get to.

Sansa was looking at the list but feeling eyes on her, she turned her head to Jon. She gave him a small smile and Jon returned it.

“Partners?” He suggested.

“Alright,” she nodded. “Do you have a preference?”

“Something short and easy.”

Sansa laughed at that. “I know most of these. Mrs. Hother did not give us any of those.”

“Of course she didn’t,” he frowned. “Where’s the fun in that?”

She laughed again and Jon noted how light and soft it was. “We can do “IF” by Rudyard Kipling. It’s a good one. It’s long so we just have the first two stanzas to worry about. Unless… do you want to do another one?”

“No,” Jon shook his head quickly. “That sounds like a good one,” he said as if he had any idea what the Hell any of these poems were. And Sansa smiled at him; as if she could read his mind. He smiled a little, too. “Do you want to meet after school and start working on it?”

“I have to go home right after school,” Sansa said and she began to shake her head. “I… I know we do have to work on it though. If you’d want to, you could come over.” She said those words but he could tell that she was unsure about saying them; as if she wasn’t entirely sure that she should be saying them.

“That sounds good,” Jon agreed before he over-analyzed her behavior. “My mom has a divorced women’s support group meeting at our house this evening and except for the good delivery they always get, it’s best to stay away from it. The women have told me they all love me but I’m also a guy so they hate me at the same time, too.”

Sansa smiled and let out a laugh.

Seven Hells this girl was beautiful. He wondered why she didn’t have any friends; or rather, why she didn’t _want_ any. He wondered what she was always looking at on her phone. He wondered where she was always rushing off to every afternoon. He wondered about _her_.

Maybe Grenn wanting to be partners with Alys Mors wasn’t the worst thing. Now, he was partners with Sansa Stark and no offense to Grenn, but this seemed much better.

“Meet you on the front steps after final bell?” Jon quickly suggested before he could say something really stupid – like telling her how beautiful she was.

Sansa paused for only a moment before she gave a single nod. “Meet you there.”

…

Jon had a car and he drove them to Sansa’s house, he following Sansa’s directions. Her messenger bag was in her lap and he saw the way her fingers curled around the sides of it, her grip growing tighter; as if she was growing more and more nervous for some reason.

“I looked up this poem during lunch,” Jon broke the silence between them. “Thank God we only have to do the first two stanzas.”

Sansa’s lips twitched at that and she turned her head to look at him. “Did you like it?”

“I don’t know,” he answered honestly. “I was more distracted with wondering how I’m going to memorize at least one of these stanzas.”

Sansa didn’t comment on that but she still smiled faintly and looked back out the windshield. “I live with my uncle and aunt,” she said rather suddenly. “My Uncle Benjen and his wife, my Aunt Willa. I…” she took a deep breath and looked at him, Jon glancing at her before back to the road but he let her know that he was definitely listening. “My mom and dad and siblings live in Winterfell. But it was decided that it would be best if I moved up here to live with my aunt and uncle.”

That gave Jon a Hell of a lot more questions but he realized that he was probably the only person at Last Hearth High School to know that about her. Maybe this meant that she would tell him more. He hoped so. Sansa was nice and beautiful and he wanted to know a lot more.

“It’s right up here,” Sansa said, pointing ahead.

It was a gray ranch house with a bright yellow door and white wicker outdoor furniture on the front porch. Jon pulled into the driveway but parked near the end in case someone needed to get in or out of the garage. Sansa looked downright pale now. Well, more pale and Jon wanted to ask her if she was or if he was just imagining it.

He followed her from the car, up the driveway, up the front walkway to the porch and the front door. He saw her as she physically paused with her hand on the doorknob, exhaling a deep breath. She looked at him and Jon began to frown, wondering what the Hell was going on. Did she, with her aunt and uncle, murder people and there was going to be dead bodies or their parts all over inside?

“I need you to promise me something,” she then said.

“Alright.” Jon didn’t think about his answer because he didn’t think that he had to.

“It would really mean a lot if you didn’t tell everyone at school about…” she took another deep breath and swallowed. “Just don’t tell anyone about this.”

“About what?”

Sansa didn’t answer. She pushed open the front door and Jon saw that it opened into a small entry way and the living room. The television was on and he heard the television was turned to some cartoon.

“Mama!” He then heard and as Sansa stepped into the house, Jon was able to see more.

The toys on the carpeted floor, the blanket spread out, and the little toddler sitting on it, stretching her arms out for Sansa as soon as she saw her come into the house.

“Hi, baby girl,” Sansa quickly dropped her bag and went straight for the toddler – obviously, her daughter – and scooped her up, kissing her on the cheek. “Oh, I missed you today. Did you miss me today?”

“Yes!” The girl exclaimed, clapping her hands, and Sansa laughed, kissing her cheek again.

She looked back to Jon, who was still standing at the door, seeing what was in front of him but also, not really seeing it at all.

Sansa had a baby? But how? They were in high school.

Well, that’s stupid, Jon, he swore at himself. His mom was eighteen when she had him and Sansa was far from the first teenager in this world to have a baby.

It made sense now. Constantly on the phone between classes, she was probably checking on her daughter. And rushing out of school right as the day ended, she was hurrying to be here. Was this why her parents sent her up to Last Hearth to live?

With the smallest smile, Jon closed the front door behind him.

“Clara, this is Jon. He goes to school with me,” Sansa said. “Can you say hi to Jon?”

The little girl looked at Jon and was still smiling. She looked like Sansa, he noted. Jon smiled back.

“Hi!” She chirped.

Jon’s smile widened. “Hi, Clara.”

She giggled, bringing her hands to her mouth, and Sansa smiled, too. She then looked to Jon and kept smiling. And Jon was grinning like an idiot but he didn’t really care.

…

[ ](https://www.flickr.com/photos/27464164@N07/50811976332/in/photostream/)

**Author's Note:**

> Just a little idea I had in my head that I wanted to get out of there. Not the best thing I've written, by far, but I hope some of you like it! Thank you!


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